Dirge (Devastation Trilogy 1)

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Dirge (Devastation Trilogy 1) Page 25

by Lesli Richardson


  I nod, then hug her. “Thank you. I love you, Case.”

  “I know, sweetie. I love you, too. I wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t love you.”

  I know I should let her start getting ready, but she holds me and doesn’t make me move.

  Selfishly, I take advantage of that and hold her tighter. I close my eyes and deeply inhale, smelling her. The fabric softener she uses, the body lotion, everything.

  Inhaling so I can assure myself she’s here with me, that she’s alive, that she’s safe.

  I can’t erase the vision of her sightless eyes staring at me from her airplane seat. Or Declan’s.

  In my nightmare, the kids’ and my brothers’ and Ellen’s eyes were all closed.

  But Casey and Declan stared at me with wide, sightless eyes, which was even more horrible.

  Even worse, I couldn’t kill myself to join them, and I was left alone and screaming on that island.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I end up getting up when Casey does. I walk downstairs to the kitchen, where she’s making coffee for me. I’ve pulled a robe on, and I step behind her and wrap my arms around her.

  How many countless times did I do this to Ellen? Exactly like this?

  Not realizing at the time that the number of mornings I would experience that simple pleasure were incredibly, tragically finite.

  She pats my hands and leans back against me. “Other reason I’m sending him tonight is because this makes three nights in a row I barely slept because of work. In addition to hysterical phone calls from my goddamned boss.” I can tell from her tone she’s not upset.

  Still, more guilt flares inside me. “Sorry.”

  She snickers. “No, hon. It’s okay. It’s the job. I was reading background for prep. But if Dec’s with you tonight, that means I can not expect a panicked nightmare phone call.” She tips her head against my shoulder and looks into my eyes. “He is helping you, right?” she quietly asks.

  “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t apologize. If you two were fucking around behind my back and I had no clue, that would piss me off.” She reaches back and pokes me in the side, almost but not quite tickling me. “That’s another reason I was so pissed at you that night when you tried to cop an attitude with me. Sharing him with you honestly doesn’t bother me, because I know about it and I’ve given you both permission. There’s no reason to sneak around. You care about him, he cares about you.”

  Honestly, I’m about to open my mouth to ask her to make this an official triad when she speaks again.

  “Let’s get through the re-election however we have to right now. Then you and I can maybe sit down and…talk. We have a lot of stuff we need to talk about.” She softly laughs. “You might wish you’d never met me after you finish picking my brain.”

  That pulls me up short. I make her turn and face me. “Case, I’ve known you literally half my life. There’s no universe in which I wish I’d never met you. There’s no universe in which I don’t need you in my life, honey. The kids need you. Even if all you ever want to be is my friend, and I never get more from you than what I have with you right this minute, I’ll accept that and be damned glad for it.”

  That’s absolutely the truth. Every word of it.

  I don’t understand why her smile looks so…sad. There’s so much about her past I don’t know, not really.

  I wonder how much I don’t know about her since meeting her? I didn’t know about Declan. I still don’t even know how long they’ve been seeing each other, or how that started in the first place.

  “You’re a good man, George Forrester,” she says. “You’re a thousand times the governor Ed Willis was, and I don’t give a shit who hears me say that.”

  A shiver rolls through me, but I don’t tell her that. “Thanks.” Her comment is an eerie specter from the past, especially in light of my nightmare. Something Ellen said.

  They did that a lot, said the exact same thing at different times, echoing each other without even having heard the other say it. Even more frequently, they used to say the exact same thing at the same time, total twinsies, in that way.

  I miss it like fucking hell, even though sometimes they’d playfully gang up on me to pick on me. Not in mean ways, though. Friendly teasing.

  Once she heads home with a travel mug of coffee, I take my coffee mug and return upstairs to stand in the shower and try to wake up.

  At least I’ll be able to sleep tonight. My cock stiffens at the thought of having my boy in bed with me. Even if all we end up doing is snuggling and sleeping, that’d still be fine with me.

  Although…

  She did say he needed a beating. Maybe we can have a hard scene, I can have fun with him, and try his new favorite thing on him again.

  That sounds like a plan.

  * * * *

  Despite not having texted with Declan yet that morning, I know as soon as he walks into my office seconds after my arrival that Casey’s already told him about the change of plans. There’s a sweet, needy hunger burning in his eyes as he looks at me, a playful smile he tries to hide.

  The way he reaches down to adjust himself.

  “Good morning, Declan.”

  His smile widens, and now he’s not the only one who needs to adjust himself. “Good morning, Sir.”

  But then Cassidy Larraby, my comms director, walks in, with Dana on her heels, Casey not far behind her, and I behave myself as the governor’s day officially starts.

  Somehow, I make it through my day and head home without making a total ass out of myself.

  I know. Shocks the heck out of me, too.

  Declan texts me when he’s inbound. I reach into the garage and open the overhead door for him.

  I can’t tell you how comforting it is to stand in my kitchen and hear a car pull into the goddamned garage, and the sound of the door rolling down behind it, the car engine shutting off.

  I mean, it nearly brings tears to my eyes.

  Because without the kids at home, and without me driving, that’s a sound I rarely hear anymore.

  No more flutter in my chest from my pulse racing when I hear the big overhead door roll up when she first arrives home.

  No more listening to the sound of it rolling down, and then Ellen’s car shutting off, after she’s returned home, usually with one or more of our kids from whatever activity it was they had.

  No more listening and following the progress from my home office in the basement as she opens and then closes the door to the kitchen, and heads over to the stairs to call up and down to see where I am.

  Her seeking me out.

  If I’m in my office, walking downstairs to me, closing the door behind her with a smile, locking it, and then kneeling in front of me to greet me.

  I startle when I realize Declan’s already inside and crossing the kitchen toward me. Like I blinked out for a moment.

  “George? You okay?”

  Grabbing him, I kiss the concern off his face, pressing him back against the counter as I let the week’s stress flow from me.

  I quickly get him upstairs, where I’ve prepared. “I was told someone needs a beating tonight.”

  He smiles. “Yes, Sir. That would be meeee.”

  We kiss as we undress each other. I’d waited to do this because I want this part, too. I want all of it.

  The romance, the sex, the cuddling, the play.

  I need it.

  If I was forced to pick only one aspect of what we have, and that was all I could do with him?

  It’d be the cuddling. He fits perfectly against my body, and at five-ten, he’s taller than Ellen and Casey. Tall enough when he molds his body around mine, I can take a deep breath and relax and close my eyes.

  I’m no submissive. I’m not. But sometimes, I need decompression time. That’s something Ellen gave me. My girl was my safe space, and until Declan, I didn’t have that at all anymore.

  Once we’re both naked, I tie him up on my bed, on his hands and knees, a
nd I see the mark.

  On his right hip.

  Where she bit him, sometime late today, because there’s still a little bit of plum lipstick smeared there, too.

  She couldn’t just let him come to me, she had to punctuate it with a little, silent fuck you, too?

  When the unexpected flash of anger hits me, it’s like it short-circuits my brain, and I proceed to…fade out for a while. Like a rage demon takes over my body and unleashes on Declan.

  He’s begging me for more, for everything, and my world focuses to a tiny point—marking him.

  Fists, implements—teeth. The whole time, his cock is hard, twitching, dripping.

  If she wants marks on the boy, I’ll leave marks on him.

  My marks.

  All over him, from ankles to shoulders and down to his damn elbows.

  Including marking him inside—because I get a blow job from him first. And as I hold his head still in my hands I fuck his throat deep and hard, loving the look in his eyes.

  More.

  Wanting more.

  He’s not pleading for me to stop, not pleading for mercy.

  In fact, when I pause for a moment and ask if I need to dial it back, he grins.

  “Don’t you dare, Sir.”

  Game on, motherfucker.

  There’s something even more satisfying about that orgasm, when he sucks it from me and I pour myself into him, than any of the others before.

  Something…more.

  And the victorious look in his eyes after he does it starts building me up again.

  While I’m scening with him, drowning my anger in his flesh, I work up a second load that’ll go in his ass as soon as I’m ready to put it there.

  Casey usually wears a plum shade of lipstick that drives me fucking crazy now and I don’t know why.

  Maybe because instead of seeing it smeared on marks she’s left in Declan’s flesh, I want to look down and see it on her lips, preferably while wrapped around my cock and leaving messy smears of purple against my abs as I force her to choke every inch of me down her tight throat, until tears stream down her cheeks.

  I beat those thoughts out of my mind by using Declan’s flesh.

  Every time I think about stopping, Declan begs for more.

  More.

  Even more.

  I give it to him.

  And more.

  I never used to be like this.

  I never used to be…mean.

  Not like this. About politics and in the professional arena? Oh, absolutely. Totally cutthroat there.

  Personally? Especially in bed? I used to be scared to go too far. I never wanted to hurt Ellen, not seriously.

  I want to hurt him.

  I enjoy it.

  What does that say about me?

  What does it say about me that it doesn’t scare me anymore?

  What does it say about him that he won’t stop me?

  What does it say about us that the foundation we’ve built whatever this is upon is formed from how much he loves what I dish out to him?

  That he wants…more?

  I think Casey is biding her time and watching to see how things play out between me and Declan, long-term. Maybe she thinks I’ll grow tired of him.

  Or that he’ll get tired of me.

  It’s nearly midnight before I’ve exhausted myself and I’m ready to finish him off. He’s got a puddle of pre-cum on the towel I put under him.

  I lube him and me and slide my cock inside him without untying him. Then I flip us onto our sides.

  He’s helpless in my arms. As he looks up at me, he wiggles enough he can fit his neck into my cupped left hand.

  “Please, Sir?” he begs.

  He begs so beautifully.

  I slant my lips over his and kiss him, even as I stroke his cock. I fuck him, I tease him, I relish his desperate pleas to come, the way he tries to rock his body against me and can’t because of my ropes around him.

  I own him completely in this moment, inside and out.

  My own orgasm is closing in, so I start clamping down on his neck. He comes a breath before I do, and the loud moan he lets out quickly fades as he starts to lose consciousness.

  I immediately relax my left hand and he gasps, takes a deep breath.

  My climax feels like it’s going to turn my balls inside out, it hits me so hard. Explosions go off behind my eyelids as pleasure spikes through me and I pump his ass full. The climax leaves me gasping for breath and shivering where I’m pressed around Declan’s body.

  As ashamed as part of me feels over admitting this, I know I never came that hard in all my years with Ellen, and I thought I’d hit the pinnacle of that benchmark with her, multiple times.

  The rage demon has left me now. I nuzzle Declan’s nose with mine, catching my breath.

  I also start feeling more than a little ashamed of myself. Right now, he looks like he’d walk off a cliff if I asked him, and I just beat the crap out of him.

  Because I felt pissed off because Casey bit him, after I scared her last night and she volunteered to switch nights with me.

  Back up.

  She’s sharing her damn boyfriend with me.

  Part of me is tempted to tell him I love him right now, except he’s…gone. He’s in his happy place, and I don’t want to make him brain right now.

  I untie him and he practically melts against me for a moment while I cuddle with him.

  “How’s my boy?” I ask.

  He lets out a happy sigh. “Wonderful, Sir. Damn, I needed that.”

  I nuzzle his nose. “What’d Casey say about our DC weekend?”

  “We honestly haven’t had much chance to talk about personal stuff.”

  “She had time to bite you today.”

  He arches an eyebrow at me. “Jealous, Sir?”

  “A little.” Why lie?

  I love his smirk. “Literally about one minute locked in her office before she headed out. She told me to come have fun with you and hopefully help you sleep.”

  Now I’m back to feeling like a shit. “Sorry. I’m not used to sharing.”

  He runs a hand through my hair. I love it when he does that. “It’s all right, Sir.” He smiles. “You know sometimes she deliberately baits you, right?”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because she likes fucking with you. And because I like it when you take it out on me.”

  “Mostly because she likes fucking with me.”

  He grins. “Well, yeah. Have you met her?”

  We both laugh.

  We clean up and head to bed, and…

  Yeah. I know I’m going to sleep tonight.

  I want to tell him I’m in love with him, but I’m not sure if I should yet.

  She doesn’t mind sharing him with me when she thinks she’s in charge.

  What happens if I admit to him how I feel, and she doesn’t like that? Letting me play with him is one thing.

  A serious competitor for his affection and loyalty would be another.

  Yeah, we went through this already, and she thinks she’s in control, but if she ever thought she was losing control of him, or me, or what he and I have…

  I can’t lose her. Or him.

  That means I keep this to myself, for now.

  Besides, I still haven’t had that talk with her about how she and Declan got together in the first place. There are things I don’t know. Even she’s said that.

  I really shouldn’t rush this.

  But I keep thinking about how many happy years Ellen and I had together, and I knew within two weeks I was going to marry her.

  And I was right.

  Why wouldn’t I be right this time?

  Chapter Thirty

  After the craziness of last night’s play, I know there will likely be a “discussion” with Casey, because…

  Yeah.

  Things kind of went off the rails.

  I’m not even sure how or why, either. That’s what’s so…

  Crazy.


  It was like Declan and I fed off each other, a self-perpetuating cycle.

  I came harder than I ever have in my life, and I know he did, too.

  When he starts to leave my bed before dawn Saturday morning, I grab his wrist and pull him back to me, kissing him, trying to make him stay. He gently untangles his body from mine, kisses me one more time, and promises he’ll return before the campaign fundraiser dinner the three of us are attending.

  I finally go back to sleep with Declan’s pillow clutched in my arms and my face pressed to it, all while taking comfort in his promise and his scent.

  I also feel relief that, for tonight, I’ll be able to sleep again.

  So when I go downstairs that morning a little after nine because I’m smelling coffee, it’s because Casey’s sitting in my kitchen and drinking coffee while reading the paper, which I’m assuming is the one from my driveway.

  She stands without speaking and pours me a mug, preparing it, handing it to me, still without a word.

  “Thanks.”

  No response, just a look I can’t decipher, one that throws me even more off-balance.

  Shit. Declan stopped by her place when he left.

  And I’m sure she asked him what we did.

  I hope I haven’t somehow borked our friendship beyond redemption. I don’t know what the rest of this is between us. I’d like more with her.

  A lot more.

  But I can’t push her for that. I don’t feel right asking that of her, as weird as that sounds, beyond the comment I’ve already made to her letting her know I’m open to it. Not unless she volunteers it.

  I’m…scared. Not of her, but of fucking up our friendship and losing her. She’s my last tangible connection to Ellen before my kids were born. There’s so much history that now only resides in our memories.

  There’s a lot of history between Case and me, too, and it’s as friends first, work second. I’ve never felt like she worked for me. It’s always felt like we were partners, a team.

 

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